The small contingent of elves made the last part of the journey to the Mountain. The new Master of Dale had been nice enough to allow the princess and her men to stay in the slowly being rebuilt city, for the night; yet she had not been able to sleep, (Y/n) standing at the entrance of the tent and looking out to the spots of light that came from Erebor.

The message that had been sent to her by Balin, had told her that the two princes had recovered well and were doing fine; but that Thorin's health was not improving; that in fact it seemed as though he had steadily got worse since her departure from the Mountain, and he now had a fever. (Y/n) not sure how that could happen, given that she had left all the tinctures and poultices that Óin needed, as well as her instructions, to nurse the king back to health. So now, for him to have a fever........she couldn't help but worry. She couldn't help but blame herself for Thorin's state. That no matter what he had done or said, she should have stayed in the dwarven realm until he had full recovered. The thought of anything happening to the dwarf king, that he may once again find himself in the Halls of Mandos, paining her far more than she could say. (Y/n) not about to let the sacrifice of the others, be for nought. And that was why she had made the journey from Mirkwood, despite the fact that her older brother had not seemed pleased with the fact she would once again be leaving their home; but he had said nothing. Instead giving her the men that she would need to escort her safety from Mirkwood, back to the Mountain.

She had wanted to push on, once they had arrived in Dale. After greeting the Master of Dale, she had wanted to continue to the Mountain, the thought of Thorin, laying in his sick bed, fighting a wild fever, making her want to get back to him as quickly as possible. Yet the darkness was not safe for any, even elves with their heightened senses, so they had stayed in the city of men. But now, as the entrance to the Mountain loomed larger, her usual calm heart was beating far faster than it had ever done before. The Lady of Mirkwood, hoping, praying to the Valar, that she was not too late to help the King under the Mountain.

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If it was possible, Thorin was even grumpier than usual, that morning. Anyone that could, doing their best to avoid him. Balin quickly making his excuses to Thorin, as he heard word that a group of elves were making their way to the Mountain; the elder dwarf joining his brother and Fili and Kili on the ramparts. A soft smile on his face as he caught glimpse of the approaching lady.

"Do ya think she'll be annoyed........" Kili asked. The dark-haired prince smiling despite his slight concern that the princess would be angry at them for their subterfuge.

"I will explain everything.......I am sure tha lass will understand." Balin replied, as he patted the young dwarf on the shoulder.

"But for now, perhaps we should go and greet our guest........."

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(Y/n) had sat and listened to Balin and the others as he explained his little ruse. It had been such a relief to hear that Thorin in fact did not have a fever, that his injuries had not been getting worse. But she could not pretend that she was not a little annoyed; not at Balin and the others, for they had done what they needed to for the good of their king, no; she was annoyed at Thorin for not letting Óin do what he needed to do, to aid him back to full health. The lady shaking her head at the stubbornness of the dwarf; at the sheer bloody mindedness of the king. (Y/n) having got to her feet, as she asked to be led to Thorin would be. Balin, Dwalin and the two princes, happily showing (Y/n) the way to Thorin's rooms.

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Thorin looked up, as a knock came to his door. He knew that everyone was doing their best to stay away from him; that since (Y/n) had left, he had been like a bear with a sore head. The princess leaving, having far more of an effect on him, than he wanted to admit; for how could he, after everything that had happened between the dwarves of the Mountain and the elves of Mirkwood, between he and Thranduil, feel so strongly for the elven kings, sister. But he did. And no matter how many times he had tried to tell himself it was foolish, the feelings for (Y/n) were still there. Thorin missing how she was always there for him, missing how she had been so gentle with him, even when he had called her all those terrible things. How his body would react to her touch, as she would carefully clean and change his bandages. How she would sing quietly to herself, when she thought that he, Fili and Kili were asleep. Thorin, in the darkest hours of the night, when he could not sleep, finding himself wishing that (Y/n) was still with them......with him. Swearing that he would take back all his cruel words, that he would welcome her to the Mountain and do all he could to persuade her to stay, if he could just see her one more time. But he doubted that Thranduil would let his sister return; that the elven king would ever allow her to leave Mirkwood, again.

"Come......." He called out with a huff. Thorin not in the mood to have to deal with anymore matters of the kingdom that day; but what choice did he have. The king watching as the door to his rooms was pushed open; Thorin sitting up straighter in his chair, as he saw who his visitor, actually was.